


Change of Pace

by nlong



Category: ColdWave - Fandom, DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Capatain Cold, Heatwave, Legends of Tomorrow - Freeform, M/M, The Flash - Freeform, coldwave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nlong/pseuds/nlong
Summary: Two years Mick has been with the Waverider's crew but it's time for a change of pace.  Too bad he has no idea what to do with himself after living on a time ship.





	1. First Gear

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this universe and I don’t read the comics but I’ve done my best to follow the TV canon. I also don’t have a beta so if you see any errors, please let me know. 
> 
> ***SPOILER ALERT here for Orange is the New Black watchers, Season 4.

Mick’s eyes shut wearily as Gideon began repairing his latest injuries. Shit!  Second time this week he’d ended up in the Waverider’s med-bay.  This was getting to be a real bad habit.   He wondered if he was just too old to be playing time-cop. 

Two years he had been with this crew now. Two years fighting time pirates, preserving the timeline and blowing shit up. Not a bad run but maybe it was time to do something else. He shifted in the chair and grunted with pain.  Maybe something with a little less chance of his getting shot, stabbed or electrocuted. 

“Hey.” Sara said from the doorway. “You look like hell.” She commented as she walked over.

“You still wanna bang me.” He replied glibly. It was a long running joke.

“Yeah Mick. There’s nothing quite like multiple lacerations to get a girl’s engine revved.” She quipped back with a small smile.

He chuckled low in his chest.

She leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed. “Seriously, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She chewed the inside of her lip and Mick knew he was about to be treated to one of her annoyingly accurate observations.

He decided to beat her to the punch for a change. “This gig might be getting old for me.”

Her eyebrows rose questioningly.

“Thinking of retiring from the legend business.” He said roughly.

Sara smiled, this time a bit wistfully. “I figured you might be. You haven’t had your usual enthusiasm for the job.  I don’t think you’ve blown anything up in at least a month.”

“I haven’t left yet, Canary. You never know what might go boom around here.” He gave her a wicked grin.

“It’s not going to be the same without you.”

“Course not! Who else are you gonna fantasize about after I’m gone.” He leered just a little.

She reached over and playfully socked him in the arm. Ahh, he was going to miss her particular brand of humor, he thought to himself.

*

Mick chose 2017, Central City to get off the ship. Enough time that the local cops wouldn’t be hot on his tail but not so much that he would have missed anything too important.

Standing in the gravel lot on the outskirts of town, everyone gathered to say their goodbyes. He got handshakes from Hunter and Stein, a fist bump from Jax and a kiss on the cheek from the Canary.  Ray had started to shake his hand and ended up practically picking him up in a flustered hug. They all seemed genuinely sad to see him go which was kind of surprising to Mick.  He wasn’t sure anyone besides Snart had ever been sorry to see the back of him. 

He put an abrupt end to the farewells when it looked like Haircut was going to start blubbering. Nobody needed to see that.

“Stop by for a visit. Drinks are on me.” He called back as he walked away, wondering if he’d see any of them again and kind of hoping he would.  They’d turned out to be a half-way decent crew. 

It didn’t take long to track down a little bolthole that he and Snart had set up in 2015. They’d had bought the place after a particularly lucrative bank robbery, if Mick remembered correctly.  It was just a shitty little apartment but it would do while he figured out his next move. 

First, he caught up on sleep and then he spent a night in Saints & Sinners getting drunk and silently eulogizing Snart. Mick wasn’t the sentimental type but it felt wrong to be back in their old stomping grounds without paying respects.  He even robbed the ATM down the street on his way out just as a tribute of sorts.  Unfortunately that night, for the first time in months, he was woken from one of his disturbing Oculus dreams and decided that he might avoid their favorite bar and any ATM robberies for a while.

He spent the next three days binge watching Netflix and sampling every take-out joint in the neighborhood before acknowledging to himself that he had no goddamn idea what he was going to do with the rest of his life.

After his favorite _Orange is the New Black_ character got killed, he decided he’d better get off his ass and impulsively robbed a jewelry shop conveniently located next to a liquor store.  He torched the building on the way out and then, while downing a bottle of whiskey, spent two pathetic hours arranging and rearranging glittering gem stones into little piles on his kitchen table.

Deciding that some violence might shake him out of his funk, he held up an armoured truck the next night and played a game of kick-the-guards while the truck was exploding in the background. There was an actual fireball when the flames reached the gas tank which was a nice touch but the whole thing was oddly unsatisfying.  Even the piles of cash sitting next to the diamonds on the table didn’t give him the old buzz that it had used to.

Frustrated and at a loss, Mick hit a random bar the following night hoping that getting laid would help. He bought a beer and scoped out the action.  There were some decent possibilities.  A group of ladies playing pool in the back, two dancing at the end of the bar, and a couple of biker chicks sitting at a table.

The dancers started making out with each other which was interesting but probably wasn’t going to work out for him.

A girl sitting with her boyfriend at the bar smiled at him and he smiled back. Hmmm.  Pretty.  She slid her drink along the bar and joined him.  “Hi.”

“Hi yourself.” Mick replied sociably, noting that she smelled nice.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Haven’t been around here. Not looking to stay either.” He took a swig of his beer.

She grinned suggestively. “You want to go someplace more comfortable?”

“What about him?” Mick nodded at the man she’d been with.

Another grin, this one sly. “We’re a package deal.”

He looked over at the boyfriend. Also pretty.  “Two-for-one.  Excellent!” 

 

They were even prettier on their knees and in their king sized bed. The woman’s slick heat was sweet and the man had deep-throated like a pro.  Good times!  Even so, he was still feeling discontented when he left them passed out and tangled in their sheets. 

He resignedly picked up another bottle of whiskey on his way home.

It was mid-afternoon when Mick woke face down on his kitchen table with diamonds and hundred dollar bills stuck to his face and finally admitted to himself that his old ways weren’t going to cut it anymore.

Apparently flying around in a time ship wrecked you for normal life. Go figure.

For about the millionth time in the last two years he wished Snart were with him. It wasn’t just that he missed his partner but that Snart had always had a plan, a next move and a way to motivate Mick. 

*

A week later Mick was finishing off a beer in yet another bar considering the pros and cons of getting a crew together and doing a big job when a yelling match between the bar owner and a waitress turned into the bar owner manhandling the waitress. The girl stumbled into the bar and spilled the beers on her tray, earning another shove from the owner who had escalated to calling her rude names.

Ahh, a bar fight!

When the beating portion of the evening ended, the asshole bar owner was flat on the floor while the waitresses cheered. One of them kissed his cheek, saying that she wished he were the boss and something sort of clicked in Mick’s head.  Hmmm.  A new idea.  He’d never been a boss.

He knelt down, slapped the douchebag awake, pulled out one of the tiny bags of diamonds that he’d been taking to get fenced and shoved it in the guy’s mouth. “You just sold me your bar.  Good doing business with you.  Get the fuck out of town”

There was more cheering and Mick couldn’t help but be a little enthusiastic for the first time since he’d left the Waverider.

*

It turned out that the bar came with a beater pick-up truck, a tiny back office filled with over-stuffed leather furniture and an upstairs apartment. All of which Mick slid into like a comfortable pair of suspenders. 

His people skills sucked but the staff was so grateful to him for getting rid of the asshat that had been the previous owner that they were pretty forgiving of his gruffness. A few of the women and one male bartender had even started an embarrassing ritual of blowing him kisses when they came in to start their shifts and no amount of his snarling could put a stop to it.

Some of the other stuff was a more difficult fit. He hated the paperwork side of the operation.  Snart had always handled the nitty-gritty details and Mick was shit at it.  He spent two days squinting at Excel spread sheets before dragging his ass down to the mall for reading glasses and a copy of _Excel for Dummies_.  The whole thing was humiliating but at least he wasn’t watching _Orange Is the New Black_ anymore. 

Two weeks in, Mick was stocking bottles behind the bar and contemplating drinking one of them when Lisa Snart glided through his doors. It was a serious jolt to see her standing there, her hair lit up golden from the outside sunshine and he felt his chest swell with unexpected happiness.  She was practically a sister and she was part of Len.

“Hey Mick.” She came across the room and pulled him into a hug.

He may have held on a little longer and a little tighter than usual, remembering the first time they’d met. A small blond shadow at Len’s side.  Watchful and silent until she’d figured out how to wrap Mick around her littler finger.  “Lise.” He rumbled and submitted to a kiss on the cheek. 

She stepped back and looked him up and down. “You look good.”

“Not as good as you, Goldilocks.” She really did look good. She looked happy and he felt like shit that he was going to have to break the news about Len.

“Mick, I’ve always been the beauty and brains to your brawn.” She flipped her hair and smirked.

He chuckled. “Let’s get a drink and sit down.”  

“You got any champagne in this dump?”

He gave her a playful glare and, grabbing a bottle and two glasses, nodded to his office in the back.

“So, you’re a respectable, tax paying businessman now?” Lisa mocked teasingly as she perched on a chair.

Mick faked a hurt look. “No need to be mean.” He poured two glasses of the bubbly. 

“Never thought I’d see the day.” She tilted her head, looking closely at him. “You’re different.” She said finally.

He frowned.

“You’ve always had…ferocity in you. Vibrating like a charge of electricity.” She took a glass from him.  “It’s still there but kind of…low wattage.”

“Oh I’m still sparking. Just got it more under control nowadays.” Mick assured her.

She smiled enigmatically and took a sip. “Interesting.”

Mick took a gulp of the champagne and grimaced. “Look kid, got some bad news.”

“Do tell.” Eyebrows arched questioningly.

He tried to get the words right. He normally would have just blurted it out but this was little Lisa.  Closest thing he had to family now.  “Me and Len, we were on a job.” He started.

“You’re always on a job.”

“Yeah well, this one was different. Things didn’t go so good.” He looked up from his glass and met her eyes.  “Len’s gone.”

She looked puzzled. “Gone?”

“He kicked it. Saved my life but he didn’t get out.” Bitterness lingered in his voice.

Looking exasperated, Lisa pulled her phone out of a pocket. “I told him you were going to think that.”

“What?” He stared in confusion as she hit redial and the phone started to ring.

“Hey big brother. We were right.  It’s him.” She put it on speaker.

“…sure?”

“I’m sitting right here with him now.” She replied. “You’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Mick.” Came Len’s tinny sounding voice over the phone.

“What the fuck?” Mick said, stunned.

“Good to hear your voice too, partner.” He drawled nasally.

“What. The. Fuck.” Mick growled with more emphasis.

“Text me the address, sis.” Len said, completely ignoring Mick.

She hung up, tapped in the address of the bar and slipped the phone back in her pocket. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Explain.” He was on his feet.

She distracted him by holding out her glass for a refill, which he realized was precisely her goal as he topped up her glass. She had always known how to calm him down.  “Len showed up a few months ago babbling about cutting strings and not being a hero.  He was…messed up.” She looked uneasy for a moment.

Mick made a ‘get on with it’ grunt.

“I sweet-talked those science nerds at Star Labs into helping him.”

“He fixed now?”

Lisa took a sip of her drink and Mick could see she didn’t know how to answer. “He’s Lenny but…”

“Low wattage?” Mick offered after a moment of silence.

She looked disconcerted. “Yeah!  He won’t talk about it. Do you know what happened?”

“Asshole went and got himself outfitted for tights and a cape.” Mick muttered, still stunned. “I’m going to get a bottle of something a hell of a lot stronger.”

He made it out into the hallway and sort of collapsed against the wall. Snart was alive. That was good.  Snart hadn’t died taking Mick’s place at the Oculus. That was better.  Snart was alive.  Mick slid down and let the realization that his partner was back in the world wash over him.

Lisa came out after a minute. “I’ll get that bottle.”  She said as she passed him.

She returned, hauled him up off his ass and they went into the office. Opening it, she took a quick swallow and handed it over to Mick.  “Here.  You look like you need this more than I do.”

He barked a laugh and tipped the scotch back. It went down smooth.  She’d known to grab the good stuff on the top shelf.   They sat and traded the bottle back and forth for a few minutes without saying anything. 

“You good?” She eventually asked.

He was trying to decide how to answer when a noise caught his attention. He looked up and Snart was propped in the doorway, his arms crossed defensively across his chest and his eyes focused on Mick. 

Mick was on his feet and, before he even realized what he was doing, he had put Snart on his ass with one punch. “You son-of-a-bitch!” He roared.

“Mick!” Lisa cried from behind him.

Snart waved her off. “It’s fine.  I was owed that one.” He scowled and then he looked up a Mick.  “Got that out of your system?” He asked.

Mick paced, trying to get a handle on the astonishing rage filling his mind. He hadn’t realized how angry he’d been with his old partner.  Why was he so furious?  

Snart got to his feet and murmured something quietly to Lisa. She rolled her eyes dramatically and left them standing alone in the office.

“You okay, Mick?” Snart asked.

“You hit me.” Mick responded with a growl. “At the Oculus.” He clarified.

“And you just hit me. Now we’re even.” Snart retorted.

“Even!” Mick shouted. “Fuck that!  You stole my revenge!” He clenched his fist again. 

Snart tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed and glittering. “I’m sorry.” He finally said.

“Oh well, that makes everything all better, doesn’t it.” Mick snarled as he got into Snart’s personal space, crowding him against the wall.

“Look, Mick…”

“No, you look, you asshole. You died!” Mick’s voice harsh.  “You left me again.” It was only after saying it that he realized that was where the all the rage was coming from.

Snart looked away. “You said I was a hero to you.” He said simply.

Mick froze for a second, remembering their conversation in 2013. Fuck, he hated time travel.  Deflated, he finally turned and slumped against the wall beside Snart.  “You are a real son of a bitch.”

“Pretty sure that’s been established.” Snart replied.

Mick frowned. “How did you get back here?  How are you alive?” He asked.

“No clue. Don’t really care. Did it work?  Did you get Savage?”

“Oh, it worked. No more Time Masters and no more Savage.”

Len turned to face him. “How long have you been gone?”

“You mean how long have you been dead to me? Two years.” Mick said roughly.  His eyes closing.  He opened them wide, startled at the feeling of Snart’s hand on his arm. 

“I don’t regret doing it but I am sorry about that.”

Mick was still simmering but the feeling of relief was overcoming his anger. “I had the team.  The job.  It wasn’t so bad.”

One side of Snart’s mouth turned up in an almost grin. “Sounds like you’ve got some stories to tell.”

Mick chuffed out a laugh. “A few.”

“How about I buy you a drink and you regale me.”

“Seeing as how this is my bar, how about I buy the drinks.”

“Yes. I hear you’ve gone straight.  An upstanding member of the community.  What’s next?  A wife, 2.5 kiddies and a mini-van?” Snart asked scathingly as they walked out of the office. 

Mick threw his arm over Snart’s shoulders. “What, you looking to play Uncle Lenny?”

Snart looked nauseated. “Where’s that drink?”

Mick laughed louder and pulled his old partner into the bar.


	2. Second Gear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick has his partner-in-crime back but are they still partners and are they still criminals?

Over the next few days they fell into a routine of sorts. Mick would do his paperwork and take deliveries in the morning and Snart would wander in around lunch with take-out.  Then they would settle at a table in the back where Mick could drink and keep an eye on things while Snart mocked him mercilessly and listed all the possible jobs that they could pull if only Mick wasn’t tied to a ‘day job’. 

Now that Mick had his partner-in-crime back, he had spent a little time wondering if he should give up the bar. He had always followed Snart’s lead but he wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted to do anymore.  At the moment there didn’t seem to be any rush to make a decision as the sarcastic comments didn’t have much bite to them and Mick sensed that Snart was pretty content sitting and drinking beer at their back table with Mick.

That’s where they were a week later when Lisa Snart strolled in with a duffle bag and an annoyed expression.   She dropped the bag at Snart’s feet.  “Here.”

“Throwing me out into the cold?” Snart asked, surprised.

She rolled her eyes at the pun. “I’ve got a line on a job in Gotham and since you seem more interested in playing house with Mick, I figure you can stay warm at his place.”

Snart looked insulted. “I’m not playing house.”

She raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at the food and beer bottles on the table. “Not seeing any jobs being planned here.”

Mick sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest and waited to see how Snart was going to explain their lack of criminal activity.

Snart rolled his eyes dramatically. “You may have noticed that our Mick has gotten himself a bit…domesticated.”

“Hey!” Mick protested. How had this become about him?

“And?” Lisa asked, hands on her hips.

“Not domesticated.” Mick declared.

Snart patted his arm placatingly. “I’m just easing him back into a productive life of crime.”

Mick looked down in offence at the hand stroking his arm. “I’m not a goddamned house cat, you know.” He grumbled.

“Tomcat, maybe.” Lisa smirked.

Both Mick and Snart snorted.

“Seriously, if I get back from Gotham and find you guys helping old ladies across the street or kittens out of trees, I’m disowning you.” She flipped her hair. “I’m off to be a bad guy.  I’ll text.” And she was out of the door before either of them could react. 

Len gave Mick a sideways look. “So Mick, wanna shack up?”

“I don’t know, Lenny. You gonna buy me a ring?” He teased.

“Think I already gave you one.” Snart looked pointedly at the pinky ring that he’d left with Mick at the Oculus.

Mick flexed his fingers and rubbed the metal band. He’d been wearing it for two years and it still sparked uncomfortable feelings of grief which he, of course, ignored in an extremely manly way.  “Crappy way to give someone a ring.” He finally said.

“Next time, I’ll gift wrap it first. In the meantime, can I stay with you or should I be out house hunting?”

Mick cocked his head. That question sounded loaded with more than a request to crash on the sofa.

Snart waited for a few more silent seconds before speaking up. “We always lived together when we were partners.  Are we still partners, Mick?”

Mick picked up a beer and picked at the label, considering. How many times had they betrayed each other?  “Not really sure what we are.” He answered honestly.

Snart’s eyes darted away and he seemed to fold in on himself just a fraction. He straightened quickly but Mick had caught the involuntary response and flashed back to a scared kid in juvie.  Shit.  “Look Snart, you and I…we don’t do feelings.”

“No hearts. Remember?” Snart interrupted.

“Right. No hearts.” Mick agreed.  “But we got a hell of a lot of history together and that counts for something so you’ve always got a place with me.  Okay.”

Snart nodded, his shoulders easing.

“’Sides, you always do the laundry.” Mick finished up with a lopsided grin which turned into a chuckle as Snart scowled.

*

They closed up the bar together as usual, which was basically Mick throwing out the drunks and avoiding the flirting staff while Snart leaned against the bar, displaying his utter contempt of any non-crime related work.

“Your bartender is skimming from the bottom of the till.” Snart said casually as Mick locked the doors.

“Blondie?” Mick wasn’t too surprised. The kid had a desperate look to him.

“Jimmy.” Snart provided the bartender’s name. “He’s careful.  Not taking too much.”

Mick ran a hand over his shaven head. “Have to have a chat with him.”

Snart narrowed his eyes. “Lisa’s right.  You’ve gone soft.” He accused.  “Back in the bad old days, you would’ve barbequed that kid before he’d pocketed the cash.”

“Back in the bad old days, I would have burned this place to the ground just for fun and you wouldn’t have had a place to sleep tonight.”

“Nostalgia is often overrated.” Snart conceded.

Mick grunted in agreement and they headed upstairs.

The apartment wasn’t much. Just a large rectangle with a bedroom and bathroom at one end, a living room in the middle and an efficiency kitchen just inside the door.  Snart had, of course, scoped out the entire building including the apartment the first day he’d shown up.  He’d immediately found and taken his cold gun but left the diamonds and cash hidden under a loose floorboard. 

Mick grabbed a cold beer and watched while Snart took over two drawers in the bedroom and purloined as many pillows and cushions as he could find to arrange on the sofa. He also took Mick’s only blanket before shedding his boots and coat and laying down.

“Comfy?” Mick asked with just a touch of sarcasm.

Snart snuggled down into his nest. “Mmmm.” Was the only response. 

Mick tossed the empty beer bottle and flicked off the lights. Walking towards to his pillowless and blanketless bed he had a bit of an epiphany.  Snart wasn’t the boss anymore.  He went back and yanked one of the pillows out from the pile. 

Snart, his eyes still closed, grinned.

“Asshole.” Mick muttered.

He stripped and stretched out in the bed with a light sheet. Fluffing his pillow with one hand, he ran the other down to circle his cock and wondered if he could get away with a quick jerk.  He looked over at the dark lump on the sofa.  They’d been roommates on and off since juvie and had pretty much always ignored what the other one was doing in his bunk but Mick felt a little unsure.  Things were different now.  Hell, they were different. 

Thinking about how much things had changed was putting him off so, deciding to give it a miss for the night, he rolled over and settled in to sleep.

The light was creeping in through the blinds when he woke. He’d dreamed of the Oculus for the first time since finding out that Snart was alive.  The dream was usually a disturbing jumble of Snart being swallowed by cold blue lights while Mick fell endlessly.  This time in the dream, his partner had reached out and pulled him up.  The falling sensation had ceased and they’d been standing in a warm yellow light.

Mick rolled to his back and stretched, thinking about how much better he felt after this version of the dream. He looked over at the sofa.  Snart had already gotten up.  The blanket was neatly folded on the sofa which made Mick grin.  Figures he’d still be a neat freak even after everything that had happened. 

“Your books are a mess?”

Mick sat up in surprise. “What?”

Snart leaned against the kitchen counter. “Your accounting is a certified disaster and your password…Really, Mick? _Great_balls_of_fire_?”

Mick rolled his eyes. Of course the bastard had already hacked into his computer.  Had probably downloaded all kinds of weird-ass porn just to piss him off too.  “Feel free to earn your keep by fixing my accounting and leave my goddamned balls-of-fire alone.”

Snart “Hmmmed.” And looked pointedly at Mick’s balls which were presently on display as he got out of bed.

Mick hit the bathroom, pissed and dunked his head under the tap in the sink. When he came out Snart was pouring two cups of coffee and he had a strange rush of familiarity at the thousands of times they’d done this.  It had been over two years for him but the old routine felt comfortable. 

He took a sip of the offered cup. Ahhh good!  Snart hadn’t forgotten the whiskey.  He carried the cup back into the bedroom area and started to get dressed. 

“You’ve gotten some new tattoos.” Snart took a sip of his coffee.  “A few new scars too.”

Mick could hear the questions in his voice. “It’s been a busy couple of years.” He replied gruffly.

“Gunshot through the left shoulder?”

Mick grinned. “That was the Canary shooting at a wack-job about to blow up the ship.  I was in her way.”

Snart quirked an eyebrow and Mick shrugged. “She didn’t really have a choice and everybody felt real bad about it.  Must have eaten ten pounds of chocolate that month.” He said, fondly remembering Haircut leaving treats out for him and Sara pretending that the mysteriously appearing candies had nothing to do with her. 

He had come back into the kitchen and was reaching across the counter for the coffee pot when Snart put a single finger on a line of tattooed writing across Mick’s forearm. “And this?” He asked quietly.  It read “ _Your end, which is endless, is as a snowflake dissolving in the pure air_.” in a looping script. “Kind of poetic for you, Mick.”

Mick poured more coffee and then whiskey into his cup. Of course his sharp-eyed partner would have spotted this particular tattoo.  The one he’d gotten, drunk on cheap booze and, something he was refusing to identify as grief, in a Chinatown parlor about a month after Snart had died. 

“Is getting into my business going to be your new hobby because I’m thinking that’s not going to work out?” He threw just enough growl into it to make it a warning. Just because they were co-habitating didn’t mean it was care-and-share time.

Snart let the finger slide around the curve of his arm, following the ink. Then he pulled away and smirked.  “Cool your jets, big man.  Just curious.”

“Right.” Mick slipped on a t-shirt and jacket. “Got two shipments this morning.” He said as an explanation as he headed out the door and downstairs.

 “So is this life now, Mick?  Shipments?  Accounting?  Poetry in ink?”

Mick stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to look up. Snart stood in the doorway, backlit by the apartment windows.  His expression was hidden but Mick had heard the frustration underneath the words. 

He rubbed his hands over his face.  “You get a better idea, you let me know.” He replied and walked away. 


	3. Third Gear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick and Len try to figure out what they are and who they are to each other.

Later that day, Snart asked him to go out for lunch rather than staying in at their usual table in the bar. They climbed in Mick’s inherited pickup truck and he followed Snart’s directions to a hole-in-the-wall diner. 

“So, what’s up?” Mick finally asked when the waitress set their meals down.

Snart nodded his head towards the nondescript building across the street. “Diamond exchange.”

Taking a bite of his hamburger, Mick examined the building. Metal doors.  Keypad lock.  Cameras on both corners and one above the doors.  No windows on the first two floors. 

Popping a French fry in his mouth, Snart continued. “Big deliveries on the last Monday of the month.”

Mick kept chewing and looking at the building. Did he want to get back into the game again?  From thief to time-cop to bar owner and back to thief? He took another bite.  It was actually a pretty good burger.  Something spicy hot in the meat.

“What do you think?” Snart sounded impatient.

“I don’t know.” Mick said around a mouthful of food.

“What is it, precisely, that you don’t know?” Okay, now Snart was peeved.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Mick answered.

“The job?”

“This.” Mick waved a hand between the two of them.

Snart flinched almost imperceptibly and then re-established his icy persona. “Fine then.  I’ll be on my way.”

Mick sighed. “Hang on.  I’m not saying it right.  I guess I mean that I don’t know if I want to be criminal partners anymore.”

“You don’t want to be criminals or you don’t want to be partners?” Snart was equal parts pissed-off and bewildered.

Mick looked forlornly down at his half eaten lunch, kind of wishing he’d just gone along with Snart’s plan and kept his big mouth shut. Fuck!  He was happy that his partner was back in the world but he’d forgotten how goddamned much work the man was.  “I tried thieving and burning shit when I first got back.” He finally said.  “It didn’t go so good.”

Snart sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What about your ‘big score’?”

“Lit London up like the biggest bonfire you ever saw in 1666. Actually had the crown jewels in my hand.  Everything seems kind of small potatoes after that.” Mick responded stubbornly.

Snart stared speechlessly at him for a few seconds and then volleyed back with. “How about we make a deal?”

Mick knew that this was not going to end well, most probably and most especially for him. He just couldn’t stop himself.  “Lay it out.”

“We do this job together as a test run. See if it warms your engine, so to speak.”

“And what I’m I getting out of this deal?” Mick asked, trying to figure out Snart’s angle. Why did he need Mick for this job?  What was really going on here?

Snart smirked. “What do you want to get out of it, Mick?” 

Jesus H. Christ! Mick just wanted to finish his burger in peace.  “First, I want to know why you want me on this job so fucking bad.  You’ve done plenty jobs without me.”

“Like you said, we’ve got history.” He unfolded his arms, laying his hand on the table and drumming two fingers, obviously considering something.  “Also, I might not exactly be at the top of my game.”

Mick stopped reaching for his burger at the quiet confession. “What?  Explain.”

“Sometimes…there are flashes. From the Oculus.”  He slid his hand off the table and wrapped his arms around his torso.  “I get disoriented.  I’m not always sure where or when I am when I come out of them.”

Mick supressed his initial concern. “I thought you was fixed up by the nerds.” He asked as calmly as possible.

“They made it better but they couldn’t stop it altogether.” He gave Mick a hard look. “Lisa doesn’t know and she ain’t going to, understand?”

“Right.” A lifetime of protecting Lisa was deeply engrained in them both.

Snart swirled a fry in his ketchup with, what Mick knew, was a deceptive nonchalance. “So. The job?”

This was stupid on so many levels, he thought to himself as he reluctantly replied. “You want me in, I’m in.” Words echoed from many times in the past.  “Just don’t expect me to bow and scrape.  You ain’t my boss no more.”

Seeming to relax, Snart finally picked up his own burger. “I’ll liberate the building plans later.  You mind if I borrow your truck?”

“Oh hell no! You’re a wreck waiting to happen at the best of times. Now…” Mick paused at Snart’s raised eyebrow.  “What?  You’re the one who said you was messed up.”

“I most certainly did not say ‘ _messed up’_.”

“Whatever. Just let me finish my lunch and I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”  It was only at Snart’s pleased expression that he realized he’d just been maneuvered into playing chauffeur. 

Mick sighed as he took the final bite of his burger and shoved some fries in his mouth. Oh yeah, this was going end real bad for him, he just knew it.

*

They got the blueprints for the diamond exchange in a shady deal in an even shadier backroom that had Mick feeling all nostalgic for the old days until he reminded himself that he was only doing this job to keep Snart from nagging him to death.

He was still nursing that resentment when they got back to the bar and he saw his light-fingered bartender wiping down the bar.

“You. Blondie.  My office.  Now.” He could at least blow off some of the steam he’d built up.

The kid looked terrified which was kind of nice for a change. “Sure boss.”

Mick shut the door behind them. “You know who I am?”

“Uh, you’re the boss.” Blondie seemed confused.

“You ever hear of Heatwave?” The kid blanched and visibly gulped. That made Mick all warm and fuzzy inside.  “You think it’s a good idea to be stealing from someone who likes lighting people on fire?” He asked calmly.

Then things got sort of confusing. There was hyperventilating and stammering and something about two younger brothers and no parents and Mick wasn’t feeling so good about scaring the kid anymore.  He ran his hands over his face.  “Aw, hell.  Calm down.  I ain’t gonna torch you.”

“I can’t…I can’t pay the rent…I’m supposed to have milk. There’s supposed to be milk for kids, right?” Wide-eyed and about an inch from hysteria, Blondie had backed himself into the corner.  He was looking at Mick like Mick had some sort of answer for him.

Mick shook his head. Life on the Waverider really had made him a pussy.  Now he was all empathetic about shit that should really just piss him off.  He could imagine Sara laughing her ass off at him over this.

He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “Here’s the deal.  I’m going to give you some money to get you on your feet and you are never going to steal from me or ask me about milk again.  Got that?”

Blondie looked like he might pass out. “I…I can’t pay you back.”

“Didn’t say you had to.” Christ!  Lisa might actually find him helping old ladies across the street when she came back.  He needed to get a grip on this.

“Really? Wow!  I mean…thanks boss.”

The kid stepped forward and looked like he was going to try and hug Mick.

“Yeah, no!” Mick put a hand up. “And anyone else hears about this arrangement and I might have to re-think my policy on turning you into a flaming shish-kebab.”

 “Right!  No telling anyone how you help…” Blondie stopped at Mick’s scowl.  “Uh, I’ll just get back to work.” And he was out the door. 

Before the door shut, Snart stepped in. Mick took one look at his self-righteous face and knew that he’d overheard the conversation.  “Not a goddamned word.” Mick warned.

Snart raised an eyebrow.

“I mean it. You don’t get to say one word about me doing good deeds after pulling that asshole stunt at the Oculus.” That wiped the smirk off quickly, Mick noted with satisfaction. 

“That was more of a ‘fuck you’ to the Time Masters than a good deed.” Snart claimed.

“Yeah, and knocking me out, leaving me with your ring and having Sara haul me out? That part of your ‘fuck you’?” Snart looked uncomfortable and Mick knew exactly why.  They were bad men and didn’t like to be reminded that they were anything else but bad men.  “Admit it, Snart.  You like playing hero.” 

“At least I’m not giving handouts to the local orphans.” He shot back, referring to Mick’s deal with Blondie. “Not to mention that I’m the only real criminal left in this partnership.”  He held up the blueprints as proof.

Suddenly, Mick was struck with an odd thought. If he wasn’t a criminal, what the hell was he? He knew he wasn’t any kind of hero-wannabe but where did that leave him.  Somewhere between a psychopath who lit people on fire and a do-gooder.  He looked at Snart, speculating whether the same thing had happened to him on the Waverider too.  Then he remembered the ‘no killing’ deal with the Flash and wondered if Snart might have had a little good-guy in him all along.

“Can criminals be good-guys?” He wondered aloud.

“What?”

Mick ducked his head down. “Never mind.  I have to get back out to the bar.” He needed some time to think about this. 

Snart rolled his eyes and snarked. “Yes, let’s not forget your day job.”

*

So, now they had a new routine. Most mornings, Len would do the books and staff schedules while Mick hauled boxes of booze around.  Not having to do the accounting anymore was sweet and it gave Mick  a little free time to start a work-out regime with some shadow boxing and weight training in one of the storage rooms.  It wasn’t quite as good as sparring with Canary but it got his blood pumping. 

Then they’d eat lunch and Mick would hang out at the bar, drinking or chatting with regulars while Len slipped upstairs or off somewhere to plan for their heist.

For about a week, Mick kept a close eye on Snart, looking for the ‘flashes’ that he’d claimed to have. So far, there were no sign of any flashes and Mick was beginning to wonder if this was just a ploy to keep him on the job.  He remembered Snart telling both Mick and some crime boss that he could fly a helicopter to get them hired on a job.  They hadn’t gotten the job, but for years, Mick had firmly believed that his partner was a pilot.  Lisa had finally spilled the beans and had laughed herself silly. 

The bar was pretty dead on a Sunday evening when he decided to head up to the apartment and confront Snart. He took the stairs three at a time and had gotten himself riled-up by the time he opened the door.  If he found out that Snart had played him, it wasn’t gonna be pretty.

He wanted to be even angrier when he saw the place was covered in plans and scraps of paper but then he saw his partner, curled up in the center of the bed. Snart’s face was smooshed into the pillows and he had his arms wrapped around another.  It was kind of adorable and Mick started to grin but then he remembered what he was doing upstairs and he walked over to the bed, kicking the corner leg as he got closer. 

“Snart, wake up.”

His eyelashes fluttered open and he squinted up at Mick. “I…what…Mick?” He held out his hand and Mick automatically gripped it, letting himself be pulled down to sit on the bed.

At this point, Mick was beginning to realize that something wasn’t quite right. Snart seemed muddled.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing now that you’re here.” Snart smiled sleepily and let his hand trail up Mick’s arm to his neck. He raised himself up and pulled Mick down until their lips met. 

He hummed against Mick’s mouth which startled Mick into finally reacting by jerking back. “What the fuck, Snart?”

Snart’s eyes widened. “Shit!  We’re not like that yet?”

Two thoughts slammed into him. First, the flashes were real and second, sometime in the future, he and Snart were…something else to each other. “Yet?” 

Snart slid away, putting his back to the wall. “What year is it?”

“2017. When exactly do we become partners with benefits?”

Snart looked away, pursing his lips while he tried to think. “I think…soon.  But maybe I just screwed up the timeline.”

Goddamn it! He hated time travel, Mick thought, not for the first time. “Look, I don’t give a flying fuck about the timeline.” He looked at Snart.  “Is it good?  I mean, between us.  Is it good?”

One corner of Snart’s mouth curled up and his eyes gleamed.

He couldn’t stop an answering grin. “That good, eh?”

Snart quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve only got glimpses but from what I’ve seen, it’s not bad.”  He took on a more serious tone.  “Remember Mick, there aren’t any Time Masters controlling us.  We don’t have to do anything.  We make our own choices.”

“You saying you don’t want this…” Mick waved a finger between them. “To happen?”

“You saying you do?” He responded cagily.

Mick got up and walked over to the kitchen counter. He needed a drink or maybe ten drinks.  Pouring the whiskey into an empty coffee cup, he mulled over the idea of he and Snart as…lovers…boyfriends…hell, what would they be exactly?  They’d been partners for twenty-some years now.  Had each other’s backs and stabbed each other in the back.  He supposed that wasn’t much different than most couples.  Heh, kind of like they’d been married all this time and didn’t know it.

Snart interrupted his thoughts by speaking from where he’d flopped back down onto the bed. “You know, we’ve been together a long time.  Know each other pretty good.”

Mick shook his head. Of course Snart was thinking the same thing as he was. 

He continued with a frown on his face as he looked up at the ceiling. “Would it be that different?”

“We’d be fucking. That’s different.” Mick said baldly.

Snart waved his hand dismissively. “I’m more worried about the other stuff. You know, like how I left you.  How you became a killer robot and threatened to kill my baby sister.”

“How you died for me.” Mick added roughly.

Rolling to his side and facing Mick, Snart narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t do that for you.  Did that to get free of those bastards.  Had nothing to do with you.”

He finished off his mug of whiskey and poured another while thinking. He’d sort of figured that out in the last two years.  Snart had never liked anyone controlling him and Mick had seen how enraged he’d been at the thought of a bunch of robe-wearing assholes deciding his fate.  Still, it had taken Mick a long time to let go of the feeling that he should have been the one to die, the one to pay for all he’d done.

Jesus! For a heartless criminal, he really had a lot of issues. 

Snart rolled off the bed and came into the kitchen. “Pour me one, will you.”

Mick took down another cup and poured. “Look, you’ve only been back in the world for a few months but that all shit happened two years ago for me.  Not saying that I’ve forgotten it but I guess I got some perspective.”  He said as he handed over the whiskey.

“It’s odd. Sometimes, you’re the same old Mick and then sometimes…sometimes you’re this guy that I don’t know at all.  Old Mick didn’t let go of grudges or forgive so easily.”

“Not saying I’ve forgotten it but…perspective.” Mick had a thought. “You think that’s why we hook up in the future? ‘Cause I’m different?”

Snart shrugged. “We’ve been partners for a long time and we never tried it before.”

“I thought it about it once in Juvie. You were real pretty.”

“Why didn’t you try anything?”

Mick frowned. “I think you threatened to shiv me.”

Snart chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

The stood silently drinking, each lost in their own thoughts. Mick supposed that Snart was right about sex not being a real problem but, with so much history between them, things could get messy.  To top that all off, Mick still had no idea what he was doing with his life, where Snart fit in or even if he did fit.

He let out a long breath. “Look, I’m going to need some time.” And didn’t he feel like a teenaged girl.

Snart gave a one shoulder shrug. “In the meantime, we do the job.”

“Right, the job.” At this point, he didn’t want to bother arguing with Snart over one stupid diamond robbery. He’d just do it and try to figure out what the hell he was doing afterwards.


	4. Reverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick is going along with Snart's plans just until he can figure out what the hell he's doing with his life. Thieving, just like the good old days.

Mick was seriously regretting the decision to go along with Snart's stupid robbery a few days later as he crawled along on his belly through the claustrophobic air ducts of the diamond exchange building.

Snart’s boot smacked him in the forehead for about the millionth time and he swore under his breath.   Not fun.  Okay, the hopping from building-roof to building-roof had been kind of entertaining but this crawling around in the dark, this was bullshit.  He still didn’t understand why they weren’t pulling their usual smash & grab MO.

Suddenly Snart slid out of view through an open vent. Thank fucking God, Mick thought as he levered himself out too and dropped down to the floor. 

They’d come out in the workshop that Snart had figured the safe was hidden in. Mick watched him while he walked around the edge of the room, his hands running over a few of the shelves along the walls in that peculiar way that he had.  He eventually stopped at one on the far end.  “This is it.”

Another thirty seconds and Snart found a latch on the bottom level. The shelf swung open and revealed the Super Fortress UL-Rated TRTL, an exact replica of the safe that Mick had lugged up his apartment stairs so Snart could practice for the last few days.

Mick leaned back against the table in the center of the room and observed as Snart laid out all of his tools. “How long?” He asked.

“My best time was 3 minutes and 46 seconds.” Snart murmured.

“Think you can beat that?” Mick asked, admiring his precise movements.

Snart turned his head just a little to the side so that the corner of his upturned lips were visible. “Plan on providing an incentive?”

Mick had to fight hard to keep an answering grin off his face. This teasing thing between them was pretty new but he liked it.  “How about not going to jail.”

“Oh, I think we’ll manage that with 3 minutes and 46 seconds. Anything else on offer?”  

He chuffed out a laugh. “I’ll think about it.  In the meantime, I’m going to check out our exit.”  He left Snart to his work and went for a stroll.  The place was deserted and it only took a few minutes to check that all the doors were opened and ready for them to leave.  

While he walked around, he thought about the last few days with Snart and all the teasing that had been going on. Nothing too overt, of course.  Snart was playing it cool and limiting himself to intense, lingering looks that made Mick breathe just a little bit harder.  It was fun but…distracting too and Mick was still uncertain of what the hell he was doing.

He returned to the safe just in time to see Snart pull open the door. “Shiny!” He commented, examining the trays of gems.

“Ain’t they just!” Snart replied as he started scooping everything into a bag.

A couple of minutes later, they were standing in the alley with matching grins. “Nothing like getting back on the horse.” Snart said.

Mick shook his head in exasperation. “I wasn’t exactly a boy-scout on the Waverider, you know.  Did my share of crime.”

“Better with a partner though, right?”

“Yeah. At least you’re not off banging the queen of France while I’m getting my assed kicked.” Mick admitted.

There was a pause and then, “Sara?” Snart guessed.

Mick gave a ‘ _what are you gonna do?’_ look.

“Well, you know me. I like to leave the celebrating until things have cooled down.” Snart’s eyes shone silver in the dark as he moved closer.

“Celebrating, eh?”

“I cracked that safe in 3 minutes, 39 seconds, by the way.”  He was just a few inches from Mick now.  He smelled good.

“Impressive.” Mick said hoarsely. He was surprised how much he wanted to lean in.  A week ago, he never would have considered this possibility but now it was all he could do to stop himself and he was having a bit of trouble reminding himself why he wanted to stop.

Snart let two light fingers trace along the open edge of Mick’s jacket until Mick reached up and gently enclosed the other man’s hand with his own. “Snart….Len…”

Suddenly, there was a whoosh and a surprised “Oh!” From a few feet away. They jumped apart and both reached for their guns. 

The Flash stood there looking confused, his bushy eyebrows creased together. “Uh, was I interrupting something?”  Then he looked at the open door of the diamond exchange behind them and he seemed even more perplexed.  “Did you guys just rob this place?”

Snart lowered his gun. “Hello Scarlet.”

“Snart. Rory.  Seriously, what are you doing here?”

With a sigh, Snart holstered his gun. “Exactly what it looks like.”

Barry put his head in his hands. “Oh man!  Come on!  I thought we were done with all this.  You joined the Legends and saved the world.  You can’t go back to being common criminals.”

“Nothing _common_ about us.” Snart fired back.

Mick put his gun away. “We ain’t heroes, Speedy.”  

“Really? Because saving the world, multiple times from what Dr. Stein says, seems fairly heroic to me.”  He had his hands on the hips of his red suit now.

Snart gave a one shoulder shrug. “What can I say, we like to multi-task.”

“Snart, you _died_ saving the world.” Barry kept at it.

“Trust me, there won’t be a repeat performance.” His lips curled up in distaste.

At this, Barry let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, not heroes.  Fine.  That doesn’t mean you have to go back to…” He waved his hand at the open door.

“Stealing?” Mick offered helpfully.

“Exactly! You could do something else with your lives.” He sounded so hopeful.

“Yes, my life-long dream of becoming a florist can finally be realized.” Snart droned. “Come on, Mick.  We’ve got places to be.”

“The jewels.” Barry said, looking at the backpack.

Mick muttered under his breath. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

“We earned these. Fair and square.” Snart protested.

“You _stole_ those.”

“Oh for….just hand them over, Snart. I’m not getting into it with the kid over some lousy diamonds.”  It wasn’t typical of Mick to walk away from a firefight but he’d been working with team Flash for the past two years and, even if he wouldn’t admit this out loud, he sort of liked Barry and the little gang of geeks.

After a moment’s consideration and a piercing glare at Mick that promised questions would be asked later, Snart finally gave the bag to the Flash. “Don’t spend it all in one place, Red.” He said coolly.

Barry took the bag. “I should bring you downtown but I’m going to chalk this up to old habits and trust that you’ll find more productive uses for your talents in the future.” Then he was gone in a streak of yellow before either of them could answer with an appropriately scathing remark.

“Well that was unsatisfying.”

Mick grunted in agreement. “Let’s go home.”

“Empty handed.” Snart said bitterly. “You want to explain why we didn’t at least put up a token fight?”

Mick squirmed inside and tried to come up with a plausible reason. “It ain’t smart making an enemy of the Flash when we might need them geeks to fix you up again.”

Snart’s eyes narrowed. “Try again.”

“Fine! We…the Waverider crew and his team, we worked together a few times. Feels wrong shooting him now.” Mick’s voice was raised, partly in irritation at having to explain himself and partly for having to admit that he didn’t want to kill the little goodie-two-shoes.

“You worked with the Flash?”

“What? We saved his ass then he saved ours. It was a thing.”  Mick felt like an idiot justifying himself.  “’Sides, the kid bought the team beers afterwards so…”

“You like him!” Snart gaped.

Mick rolled his eyes. “I’m out of here.” He turned and started heading up the five blocks to the pick-up truck. 

Snart caught up and they walked quietly for a few minutes. “It is mildly gratifying that you guys needed an actual superhero to pick up the slack after I was gone.”

Mick tried not to smile.

“I mean, he doesn’t have my flair but…”

He couldn’t keep in the choked-off laugh. “He wears a full-body fetish suit. How much _flair_ do you want?”

This time, Snart was the one smiling. “The kid couldn’t pull off a decent pun to save his life.”

That sobered Mick a little. For the two years that Snart had been dead, Mick had heard all those idiotic puns in his head because there had been no one to say them out loud. 

Seeming to sense Mick’s mood, Snart bumped shoulders with him as they walked. “Flash got your tongue?”

He snorted. “You’re right.  The kid may be fast but he ain’t nothing compared to you, Snart.”

There was a slight hesitation in Snart’s next step and then a longer stride to catch up to Mick again. This time, it was Mick who bumped their shoulders together as they walked companionably back to the truck.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfic in a long time so I'd love to hear what you think or if you have suggestions.


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